


Just Friends

by brianna441, The_Empress



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Crossovers: Highlander, Drama, First Times, M/M, crossovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 02:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brianna441/pseuds/brianna441, https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Empress/pseuds/The_Empress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Methos comes to Cascade and meets Blair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Friends

## Just Friends

by Suze777 and HLEmpress1

Author's webpage: <http://members.aol.com/planethl/fanfic.html>

* * *

Just Friends 

by Suze777 and HLEmpress1  
June 1999 

"Another culinary masterpiece, Mac" Methos commented as he left the table, wandering into the the living area. 

Mac looked up from clearing the table. "Thanks, but you can really show your appreciation by helping me clean up." 

Methos immediately made a detour from the couch to the bathroom, calling behind him, "Sure, Mac. As soon as I finish in here." 

Mac watched the bathroom door close, shaking his head. Why was it every time there was a domestic chore that needed to be done, Methos needed to be elsewhere. He chuckled. Must be part of his great survival skills. 

Just as Mac was finishing up and was wiping down the counter, Methos reappeared, sauntering back into the kitchen and heading for the fridge. 

"Beer?" he asked politely, reaching in and grabbing a bottle. 

"Sure," Mac answered, "But don't even think about..." his voice trailed off as he heard the clicking noise of the beer cap bouncing off the top of the fridge. He sighed, turning around and taking the bottle Methos handed him. "You are unbelievable." Methos just looked at him and shrugged, heading for the couch, sprawling comfortably after grabbing the paper from the coffee table. 

Mac continued wiping the counter after taking a swig from his beer. He surreptitiously watched the man on the couch. Where was this coming from? His friend Methos: An enigma wrapped in a mystery surrounded by a puzzle or something like that? Mac considered Methos a close friend, yet really knew very little about him. He wanted to know more, but the ancient man guarded his secrets as closely as the pyramids. 

Shaking his head, he wondered why he was thinking like this tonight. The Old Man had been in town for a month, spending some of his time at the university and the rest camped out on Mac's couch. Duncan decided to just go with the flow, happy that this man considered himself his friend. Maybe after five thousand years he gave all that he could. 

Mac was still watching when he saw Methos sit up straight. The color had drained from his already pale countenance and his gaze was focused intently on the paper. 

"Is something wrong?" Mac asked with concern. It was rare that anything disturbed the usually placid immortal. He walked over, standing right in front of the couch. "Methos?" 

Methos didn't respond, still staring intently at the paper. 

"Methos?" Mac repeated a little louder. 

The older man looked up, almost surprised to see Mac standing there. 

"Mac. Sorry," he replied, shaking his head. "I drifted off there for a second." 

"What's so interesting?" Mac asked, nodding his head at the paper. 

Methos sighed, then handed the paper to his friend. "Page fifteen," he answered, reaching out for the beer, almost draining it with successive swallows of his long throat. 

Mac sat and opened the paper, quickly turning to the page in question and reading aloud: "Ancient artifacts donated to Rainier University." He looked up at Methos. "This one?" Methos nodded, closing his eyes. Mac read on: "The family of Harman Yates, the recently deceased archaeologist, has donated several items to Rainier University. Yates was on a dig in Egypt when he discovered a new section of the city, formerly thought to have been uninhabited. Several dwellings were uncovered and many artifacts were found. The archaeologist succumbed to heart failure shortly after returning to Cascade and his family has turned over the items to the Archaeology and Anthropology departments for further research." 

Mac looked over at Methos, who still had his eyes closed. He looked back down at the paper and saw a picture with several items including a chipped vase and something that looked like a badge or an emblem with a chain attached. "Something here belong to you?" He asked, watching Methos' reactions closely. 

Methos finally opened his eyes, taking a deep breath as if to calm himself. "Not mine, but something that belonged to...a friend." 

Mac waited, but Methos didn't continue. "C'mon, Methos!" Methos looked up at the sharp tone, focusing on the Scot. "For God's sake, can't you for once share something about your past with me? I thought I was your friend, but sometimes I wonder." 

The ancient immortal looked at Mac for a moment, as if he were considering whether or not to answer. Like he was evaluating...analyzing...what he could and could not reveal. Suddenly he stood up and walked towards the kitchen. "Another beer, Mac?" Methos asked, opening the fridge. "This might take awhile." 

"Sure," replied Mac, relaxing into his chair, pleasantly surprised that, for once, Methos would do as he asked. He watched his friend return with the beer, handing one to Mac and then sitting back down, squirming around until he was comfortable, his neck supported by the arm of the couch. 

"You saw the small piece of metal shaped like a cat?" Methos asked softly. Mac nodded. "It was actually a hair tie. I recognize it because...because I had it designed and made. The cat was the symbol of my house. It was a gift to someone very close to me." His voice trailed off. 

"One of your wives?" Mac prompted, trying to keep Methos talking. 

"No, one of my slaves. I made...I mean ...I fell in love." He stammered, shook his head then he continued. "That was a BIG mistake in those days, falling in love with a Hebrew slave." 

"Was she very beautiful?" Mac asked softly. 

Methos chuckled. "No, actually HE was very beautiful." He continued laughing when he saw the expression on his friend's face. "Well, Mac, you wanted to know! Yes, I've had male lovers. It was quite common in certain societies, expected in others." Methos looked at the younger man with speculation. "So I take it you've never...?" 

Mac sat up straight in the chair. "No! I mean, there's nothing wrong with it, it's just never come up..." Methos started laughing. Mac sputtered, "I don't mean come up, I mean... Oh, forget it! This isn't about me, it's about you. Don't try to change the subject." 

The ancient man laughed for a few minutes, finally containing his hilarity. He took another swig from his beer and continued. "Right. The story. Well, his name was Seth and I found him in a village outside of the city. I noticed him right away, it was hard to miss that mass of dark hair. He had this long curly hair that framed his face..." Methos cleared his throat. "Anyway, he was young and clearly being abused by his owners. Seth looked so innocent and vulnerable. So I bought him, taking him into my household as my personal slave. I had to train him, of course. He was used to physical labor, but he needed to learn to be a body slave." 

"A body slave?" Mac asked. "What exactly does a body slave do?" 

**EGYPT - 52 BC**

"Come here, Seth." Methos called. 

The Hebrew slave stood shaking at the doorway to his new home. His blue eyes were wide with fear and the wild mass of dark curls was damp along his forehead. That voice was soothing though and he tentatively took a step forward. 

"That's right, you'll be fine here. No one will hit you or starve you in this house" Methos calmed the young man with his tone. In one of the few lives he could actually use his real name, Methos, he was a trader, a very good trader. This house, built outside of the city, was his refuge. He only kept a few slaves, just enough to look proper. He didn't care for the institution, having been on the other side of the coin in his recent past. And will be again, he thought to himself with a rueful smile. 

Seth moved slowly towards the cool interior of the house. It was a new experience for this young man. He had labored in fields and had only been brought up to the house if there were repairs or furniture to be moved. But now he was to be trained as a body slave. He shivered with anticipation. The man, his owner, that stood before him was beautiful. Long and lean, with the most amazing green/gold eyes. It was those eyes that had made him feel safe during the ride to this new place. 

Methos took the young man's hand and guided him to an interior room. The room was lit only with the natural light coming from an opening high on one wall. In the center of the room was a large marble bath. Bottles of oils and scents stood around the edges and on little shelves carved in the mud walls of the room. It smelled wonderful in here, thought Seth. 

"Remove my tunic" came the commanding voice of his master. Seth tensed, but followed Methos' order and carefully undid the clasp at his shoulder. The tunic fell and Seth's face colored at the sight of a very well endowed male before him. "Now your own" came that voice again. And Seth began to tremble anew. 

"Calm yourself Seth. I will not harm you. In fact, my dear boy, you will probably enjoy this as much as I will." The smile on his master's face was enough and Seth shed his own tunic. _Beautiful_ was all that Methos could think. 

Slowly Methos instructed the boy on what to do. Which oils were soothing and which were stimulating. Eventually they both were in the large bath and Methos allowed himself to touch the boy in return. Their eyes met and Methos knew he had found his treasure. 

The next day, while in the marketplace, he stopped to see the local jewelry maker. Methos gave instructions for a hairtie to be fashioned and marked with his symbol: The Cat. It was a holy figure in Egypt....it was treated with respect. That was why Methos adopted it and all of his slaves wore it in some form. It was Seth's hair that gave him the idea for the hairtie though. That riotous mass of curls would have to be tamed during the day. 

The next evening, after Seth had cleared the evening meal, Methos asked him to come and kneel before him. Seth nervously sank to one knee, fearing he was to be punished for some indiscretion he had made. But instead he felt a large hand rest gently on his head. The hand caressed his hair and then ran down his shoulder and arm ending up with his hand held in it's firm grasp, palm up. Afraid to look into those amazing eyes, Seth concentrated on the object being laid across his hand. It was beautiful! The chain was bronze and quite finely worked. But the clasp. It was the most exquisite cat, with large emerald eyes that glittered in the light from the oil lamps. 

"Master, I cannot.....this is an amazing piece." the slave stuttered. 

"Calm yourself Seth. Each of my people wear the symbol of my house. But this I had made for you. It was your beautiful hair that gave me the idea. I really hate to tame it but during the day you should keep it tied back. Just remember you cannot wear it fashioned in a lock, that would inappropriate for a slave, even a Hebrew." Methos counseled his young charge. His own eyes glittered to see the joy in Seth's face. He obviously had made a good choice in his gift. 

In the shadows was a figure. Listening and watching. Whomever it was, they were not pleased.....not pleased at all. 

**PRESENT**

Methos' voice trailed off for a moment. Mac sat watching him, fascinated by this glimpse into his friend's past. Although he didn't give many details of his encounters with Seth, Mac could hear the intensity of his emotions in that expressive voice. The way the tone became husky when he spoke of teaching his young charge. Hell, even Mac was aroused just listening to him and imagining... 

The ancient immortal was surprised by his companion's silence. Very un-Mac like not to be pressing him for more details. Methos opened his eyes and was surprised by the expression on Mac's face. He was staring off into the distance, cheeks flushed, breathing heavily...one would almost think that he was...excited by the story? Methos' own heart speeded up at the thought. Could his oh, so straight friend actually be enjoying the idea of two men having a sexual relationship? He closed his eyes and prayed momentarily to several deities he worshipped in past lives. 

Opening his eyes, Methos called huskily, "Duncan?" No response. "Do you want me to finish the story?" 

Methos watched as Mac's gaze finally cleared and he focused on the immortal sprawled on the couch. 

"Methos!" Mac sputtered, refusing to meet his friend's eyes. "I'm sorry, I must have dozed off..." He squirmed in his seat, finally abandoning it, jumping up and heading for the bathroom. "I'll be right back." he called behind him and then Methos heard the click of the latch. 

Now isn't this an interesting turn of events, thought Methos. One that was quite unexpected. Methos had been attracted to Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod ever since that first meeting in the apartment in Paris. He'd known about the infamous immortal for years and had been looking forward to meeting the man in the flesh. And oh, what nice flesh it was too, he smiled at the thought. 

But he knew the man was as straight as an oak tree. He'd read all the Chronicles and observed the Scot in action. Ladies Man was the appellation that fit Mac to a "T". Methos knew he had little or no chance of ever having the wish of his heart's desire come true. He loved Duncan MacLeod with every fiber of his being. Duncan was everything he was not, or hadn't been for millennia. Was darkness always so attracted to light? For that was what Duncan was to him. Light. Brightening what of late had been a life grown increasingly dark. 

Methos looked up as Mac walked back into the living area, his face damp as if recently washed. The younger man still refused to meet his gaze. 

"Do you mind if we save the story for another night, Methos?" Mac asked. "You can stay on the couch if you like." 

Methos watched him speculatively. "Sure, Mac. No problem," he replied. He sank back on the sofa, his eyes following Mac as he secured the loft, checking all the locks and turning off the lights. 

"You need an extra blanket, Methos?" He asked, stopping for a moment by the couch looking down at his friend. 

"No, thanks." 

"OK, then." Mac said briskly. "Goodnight." 

"Goodnight." Methos answered, listening to the rustling of clothes as Mac finished getting ready for bed. 

Finally the loft grew silent. Methos closed his eyes and thought again of Seth. Amazing that the hairtie would show up at Rainier. So close. Maybe he should go see what else Yates had uncovered. It would be nice to get out of town for a bit and give Mac a chance to come to terms with Methos' story and his own reaction to it. You never knew what he might come home to, he thought with a slight smile. If there was one thing he had learned over all these years, it was never say never. 

Mac got up in the early dawn hours, putting on his running clothes. He made his usual swing by the couch to re-cover Methos with the afghan that was often in disarray at this hour. But the couch was empty, the afghan returned to it's place on the back of the couch. Methos must have left last night, Mac thought, disappointed. He knew his friend would never have been up this early. He started to clean up the empty beer bottles and realized the newspaper was gone. 

**RAINIER UNIVERSITY**  
 **CASCADE, WASHINGTON**

Methos wandered into the exhibit that was obviously still not complete. He watched the students bustle around, moving boxes and setting up displays. No one paid him any notice, which wasn't unusual. Adam Pierson tended to blend into the academic scenery. He strolled around, poking into various boxes, when a voice caught his attention. 

"No, no, no!" the voice shouted with exasperation. "We need this to be accurate! Paul! Melissa! Joyce!" 

Suddenly there was a beehive of activity in the center of the room and Methos focused on the man in the middle of the maelstrom. His heart pounded and the voices faded, all he could hear was his own breathing. SETH! 

**EGYPT - 51 BC**

The dust of many roads coated Methos' lean tanned face as he stepped from his chair to the ground in front of his house. The slaves who had borne that chair quickly spirited it away as soon as he was clear. But something was wrong. Methos felt the skin on the back of his neck prickle as he entered the house. He knew he was back a day early from his trip, but still there should be someone responding to his arrival. 

He called out to Seth. No one came. Something was definitely wrong here. Dropping the satchel he carried he dashed for the bedchamber. Rounding the corner into his room he was amazed at the mess. Clothing was strewn around the sleeping area. Bottles of oils he kept there for he and Seth to use had been smashed and stomped into the soft ground. 

This was no simple runaway slave. Seth would never leave on his own. Moving quickly he found the cook sitting in the kitchen. The old woman was nearly blind, unusable to any other household Methos had taken her in because otherwise she would have been left to starve in a hovel. She told him only that Titus had eaten in the kitchen that morning and then the house was quiet. 

Titus! He should have known. That imperious Greek was just the type that would do something horrible like this. Methos was furious. He ran to the stables, calling out for Titus to come. When the sweaty man presented himself Methos pulled his blade and put it to Titus' throat. 

"What have you done with him? Methos shouted. "Tell me now or die a slow painful death. I WILL get it out of you!" 

Titus tried to stall, but a few well placed slices along his neck and face soon had the information Methos wanted spilling from his lips. The smell of blood was soon joined by the smell of feces as Methos sank his blade deep into Titus' gut. The slave would die very slowly, which was what Methos wanted. He left him there to rot. Pausing briefly at the outside well to rinse the blood and gore from his hands Methos moved quickly to gather a few possessions. The satchel he had dropped at the door was retrieved. It contained important papers and currency, but also a gift for his beloved Seth. His Seth....he thought as his eyes filled. His Seth, whom he'd never hold near again. The feel of his hair against his thighs as Seth proved he had learned from Methos gentle training. The sob broke from him before he could stop it. 

Taking a deep breathe he paused in the kitchen to lay several pieces of bronze in Etta's gnarled hand and tell her she was free. She protested only once, when she felt Methos press a kiss to her temple. She could feel his tears on her face and smell the salt. She knew it had been too quiet in the house. 

Methos next stop was the stable. He stepped over the body of the dying slave and retrieved a horse. Stopping only to say a silent good-bye to his beautiful Seth he rode away. Time for a change of scenery....... 

**PRESENT**

"Hey, man, are you OK?" 

Methos opened his eyes to see the embodiment of Seth standing before him. He stared. 

"You're scaring me here, man." The smaller man said, bouncing on his heels, mass of curls wreathing his face. "You need water or something? Tea? A doctor?" He smiled. "Of course, calling a doctor around here will get you a degree but no stethoscopes." 

"No, I don't need anything." Methos replied, still looking bemused. 

"English! You're English!" The man smiled brightly. "Cool accent. Hey, you know the exhibit isn't open yet. Not that I mind you walking around, but is there something I can do for you? Nothing's ready. They dumped this damn thing on me after the Archaeology department head had a heart attack, the bastard. Ooops. Not that I don't want him to get well or anything, but he is a bastard." 

Methos stared at this man who just never seemed to shut up, or stop moving for that matter. He bounced. Like a Tigger, he thought with a smile. Now he knew this wasn't his Seth. The hair, the face, the body was about the same but nothing else was. 

"Excuse me for a minute," the man said. And he was off, racing across the room. "Don't put that out until we get the final translation, Mike! You know it's not finished yet. Damned hieroglyphics really suck." 

The man looked up in surprise as he heard a voice behind him. "Maybe I can be of help." Methos said. "May I?" The taller man reached out and took the tablet from the student, studying it for a moment. "It's actually a piece of a larger set. Instructions for making beer. This one involves fermenting techniques. The owner must have made his own beer. You want the exact translation?" 

"Who are you?" the man said, staring at the stranger. 

"Adam Pierson." Methos replied, holding out his hand. "Currently visiting Professor of Linguistics at Seacouver University." 

"Where are my manners!! I'm Blair Sandburg," he replied, reaching out to shake the other man's hand. "I'm finishing my doctorate in Anthropology. Currently way over my head trying to organize this exhibit. Hey, you know anything about archaeology?" 

Methos smiled. "A bit." 

Methos could see the wheels turning in Blair's head. Anticipating the question, he thought about his answer. Was he willing to stick around her for awhile? It might be interesting to work on this exhibit, seeing his own household's contents set out for public display. Then there was Blair. Gorgeous, thought Methos, and not just because of his resemblance to the long deceased Seth. He was so animated, so full of life. Maybe he was just what Methos needed right now. 

Blair's voice interrupted his thoughts. "You wouldn't be interested in sticking around to help us out, would you, Adam? We won't take up much of your time, and it really would be good for the university. Think of the students..." 

Methos help up a hand, halting the flow of words. "Stop!" Blair stopped. "I would be happy to help out. I can stay around for a bit." He looked around. "This could be fun." 

"Great!" Blair exclaimed, reaching out and hooking his arm through the taller man's, leading him across the room. "You know, Louie, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship." 

Methos looked down on Blair with a smile. "Glad to know my fringe benefits include bad Bogie impersonations." 

Blair laughed. "I knew I liked you," he said as he led Methos towards the office. 

Methos smiled and replied quietly. "Yeah, I like you too." 

* * *

"Ouch!" 

"Baby!" 

"You try falling on your bum twenty times in an hour and see how it feels!" Methos rubbed the offended part of his anatomy while clinging to the fence in an effort to stay on his feet. 

Blair spun in circles in front of him, curly hair sticking out from under the helmet. "Why is it that everything you say sounds cultured?" He began mocking the accent. "You try falling on yoooouur bum....." Blair broke off laughing. "I caahn't believe you've never been on blades before." 

Methos glared at him for a moment before adjusting his helmet. Yeah, like he needed a helmet, he thought. As he watched Blair playing in front of him, his eyes gleamed. A perfect twentieth century invention: spandex shorts. For a smaller guy, Blair certainly filled out those shorts pretty well, he thought. 

"C'mon, Adam!" Blair taunted. "Get your _bum_ off the fence and get moving, soldier!" 

Methos' eyes narrowed. "How about a bet?" 

Blair stopped for a moment, hands on his thighs as he caught his breath. "What's the bet, sissy boy?" 

"I'll bet you that I can get to the steps of the library before you do." He taunted. "Loser buys dinner...AND drinks." 

Blair hooted. "I'll take that bet!" he laughed. "You're gonna get creamed, my man! OK, you ready?" 

Methos rolled out and stood beside Blair. "I'm ready, little man." Blair laughed again. "Ready, set, go!" 

Blair took off at a fast clip down the campus path. He didn't turn around because he was afraid Adam was holding out on him. He pushed himself as fast as he could. Suddenly he heard the pounding of feet behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Adam closing in fast...his blades in his hands!! Blair pumped even harder, but Adam quickly passed him and was sprawled on the steps when Blair fell panting to his side. 

"You cheated!" 

"Did not." 

"Did too!" 

"I just said whoever got to the steps first won." Methos explained patiently. "I won." 

Blair turned to glare at him. "Playing a little fast and lose with the rules, don't you think there, old man?" 

Methos laughed. "Age and treachery always wins out over youth and skill," he teased. "And boy, am I thirsty tonight." 

Blair glared at him for a minute longer then broke out laughing. Methos laughed along with him, reaching out and pulling him in for a friendly hug. Blair just leaned into him, still chuckling. 

* * *

Blair and Methos sat on the floor of the exhibit hall surrounded by students, boxes, and lots of packing material. They had all been working for several hours and were very tired. Blair realized the background music had stopped. 

"Hey, Sharon!" he called. "Can you change the tape? Put something a little more lively on this time, will you?" 

Blair stopped for a minute, stretching his back. He watched Adam on the other side of the room. He was quietly explaining to Amy the significance of the small vase she held in her hands. Blair smiled. Adam had fit it nicely with their little group. He was kind, patient, fun, and very, very smart. He watched as Amy moved a little closer to Adam. He was certainly a hit with the ladies, Blair thought. A very good-looking man, stunning actually. Tall and lean with devastating eyes. Blair's own eyes gleamed as he took full measure of his new friend. Not heavily muscled like Jim, but strong and powerful nonetheless. He'd felt the strength in those arms... 

"Professor Sandburg!" the distant voice called. 

Blair shook himself, realizing he'd been staring at Adam. When his gaze cleared, he realized Adam was now watching him, a smile gracing his elegant features. Their eyes locked and Blair's heartbeat quickened. 

"Professor Sandburg! It's time!" Blair saw all the students rise to their feet and he realized what was happening. He heard the beat of the music and stood, starting to move. 

Adam looked around, puzzled. Blair walked over to him and reached down, pulling his friend to his feet and dragging him to the center of the room. Then he moved himself to the other side of the circle. 

"What is this?" Methos asked, watching the students finish forming the circle. Then he heard the music just as they all began to dance, Blair in the lead. 

"It's the Egyptian Macarena!" Amy shouted, trying to be heard over the music. "We do this for stress relief! It was Professor Sandburg's idea!" 

Methos shook his head, chuckling. "Why am I not surprised?" he said under his breath. Then he saw the intricate hip movements that were an integral part of the dance. And boy, could the little Professor move! 

"Hey, Adam!" Blair called, drawing the older man's gaze from his sinuous hips to his face. "You joining us?!" 

"I can't believe I'm doing this...." Methos yelled back, and out his hands went in the _Egyptian_ incarnation of the dance. Thank the gods Mac isn't here to see this, he thought, trying to follow the dance. Soon, he had the rhythm and returned to watching Blair again who, he was happy to see, was watching him too.... 

* * *

"No" 

"Why not? It will be fun!" 

"Not a chance." 

"There's nothing wrong with it." 

"Nope." 

"But you've done it before." 

"Yes, and I swore I'd never do it again." 

"It IS considered a sport!" 

"It's not a sport. If it's not in the Olympics, it's not a sport." 

Blair stood looking down at Adam who was lounging on the couch, watching the news. "I do this every Wednesday night." 

"Good for you," Methos replied, saluting him with his beer. "Have fun." 

Blair flopped on the other end of the couch, trying to think of a way to entice Adam into going with him. 

"I got you your own shirt," he said. "It even has your name on the pocket." 

"Tell me you didn't really sign me up for this, Blair!" Methos pleaded. 

Blair looked down, hair covering his face, hiding his expression. "I signed you up for the Rainier University Summer League." He answered morosely. "I'm sorry. I'll tell them you can't do it. Don't worry." Blair peered through the curtain of his hair and saw Adam's face. He almost had him. Now for the finishing touch. Pushing out his bottom lip in a full pout he sighed softly "I guess the shirt wasn't _that_ expensive." 

"Oh, for God's sake, I'll do it!" Methos shouted, rising to his feet. "Give me the damn shirt!" 

Blair bounced up, heading for his bedroom. "I'll get it! You won't regret this, Adam. There's nothing like bowling!" 

* * *

The door burst open and the two laughing men tumbled through the opening, almost falling, but gripping each other's arms they somehow managing to stay on their feet. 

"Man, I am toasted!" said Blair, clinging to Methos and trying to regain his balance. 

"That sounds like a drink. Toasted Blair." Methos smiled as Blair started giggling again. "Excuse me, bartender, may I have a Toasted Blair?" Blair's giggles got Methos started again and the two sank to the floor. Finally the laughter settled down to a few stray chuckles as the two lay on the rug. 

"I have to pee." Blair announced. 

"I'll alert the media." Methos responded drily. 

Blair started laughing again. "I can't get up," he explained. "Help me." 

Between the two of them, and a little leverage from the coffee table and the couch, they finally got to their feet. Blair toddled off to the bathroom, while Methos headed into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. 

"You want another beer?" he called. Giggles erupted from the bathroom. 

"I can't even hit the toilet and you're still drinking?" Blair called out. 

"I have a strong cons...consti... Ah, forget it!" Methos pushed the beer back into the fridge. He wandered over to the couch and flopped down. He heard the toilet flush and then Blair came out, heading directly over to the couch and sitting, immediately leaning his head against the back of the couch. 

"Man, oh, man, what a night!" Blair exclaimed. "That was a great club. I would have asked Jim to go, but it's not exactly his speed, if you know what I mean." 

"How long will he be out of town?" Methos asked. 

"Who, Jim?" Blair's brow furrowed. "Another week, I think. Some special police training thing. I've kinda lost track of the time since you've been here." 

"That club was a little over the edge for most people." Methos responded. "That music was unbelievable." 

Blair smiled. "You know, you really can move. For an old guy, that is." 

"An _old guy_?" exclaimed Methos. "I'll show you an _old guy_!" 

He leaned over and started tickling Blair. Blair squealed and immediately began to retaliate. The two men ended up grappling each other for leverage, each scoring repeated hits, causing the other to cry out. 

Finally Methos called, "Stop!" He was lying partially over Blair, staring down into his flushed face. Bright blue eyes stared up into his. Suddenly, he reached out and caressed Blair's cheek, watching as the younger man's eyes widened, then dilated with arousal. His hand brushed through the thick hair, curls clinging to his fingers. 

Methos leaned down and brushed his lips softly against Blair's, quickly pulling back. Blair's gaze met his. He kissed him again, staying longer this time. Adjusting his body against Blair, Methos heard a gasp when the other man felt his arousal. Relaxing and moving away slightly he saw that Blair had closed his eyes and his lips were wet and slightly parted. He was beautiful, thought Methos, almost ethereal. Groaning, he once again pressed himself firmly against the smaller man and began to kiss him, opening his lips and pressing his tongue inside. 

Blair's arms came up slowly around Methos as he became an active participant in the kiss. Methos could feel Blair's own arousal growing and pressing against his abdomen. Their mouths clung, slanting for the proper angle, tongues dueling. Methos undulated against Blair, seeking friction for his aching erection. Blair gasped, pulling back, breathing heavily. Methos looked down at him, his own eyes slumberous with passion. 

"I've never..." Blair's voice faltered. "I mean, with a guy, you know?" 

Methos' chest tightened. Would this man never stop enchanting him? "We don't have to do anything you don't want to, Blair." 

"I think I want to," he smiled when he heard Methos' chuckle. "I mean I KNOW I want to...I just don't...know...well, how." his voice fading slightly as his earnest expression met the older man's. 

Methos smiled softly, running his hands through Blair's curls, long fingers continuing to caress the beautiful face below him. "It's not that different, believe me. Just do what you feel." 

Methos gasped as Blair thrust against his abdomen. Blair smiled. "It's what I feel." Methos laughed and pressed himself more firmly against the smaller man. They began to kiss each other passionately, hands caressing each other wherever they could reach. It was Blair's turn to gasp when talented fingers somehow moved between the two straining bodies and began to caress his aching cock. His head fell back and he began to moan and thrust uncontrollably. 

Methos levered himself up off of Blair, who moaned at the loss. Resting on one knee and leaning against the back of the couch the older man merely smiled and reached for the belt buckle at Blair's waist. Blair held his breath as Methos began the slow unbuttoning process, his fingers straying, causing the occasional gasp and moan from his partner. As he unbuttoned the jeans, he realized Blair had gone commando, how convenient, he thought. He reached in and cupped the genitals, exploring with his lean fingers. Blair began to thrust again, seeking contact for his aching cock. Methos finally took pity on his lover and grasped the surprisingly large erection in his firm grip. 

He leaned down and licked delicately at the weeping head, causing another loud groan from his partner. Realizing the younger man could not hold out much longer, Methos leaned down and swallowed the erection in one swift move. Blair cried out, reaching down and grabbing his lover's head. He began to thrust and Methos firmly grasped the young man's hips, accommodating his movements. As the thrusting became erratic, Blair tried to pull the other man's mouth away, knowing he was about to come. Methos refused and soon it was out of Blair's control. He arched up, his climax almost melting his spine, spurting uncontrollably. 

Blair relaxed against the couch, drowsy eyes looking up at Methos. "Adam, that was incredible," he said quietly. 

Methos reached down and brushed at the damp curls which clung to Blair's face. He leaned down and kissed him lightly then got to his feet. Blair looked up at him questioningly. 

"I'm too old to be making out on the couch," said Methos emphatically, reaching down and pulling a wobbly Blair to his feet. "Let's go to your room." 

Once in Blair's bedroom, Methos quickly stripped the younger man then sat him on the side of the bed. He started to remove his own clothes, when Blair reached out and pulled him between his knees, caressing the jean clad hips with his hands. 

"Let me," he said, smiling up at Methos. Blair leaned in and rested his head against the warm, hard bulge. Methos reached down and gripped the mass of curls in his hands as the younger man rubbed his face against him, inhaling deeply. 

"This is really cool," Blair said as he pulled his head back slightly. "I didn't think I'd like this..." 

"Well, you'll have to explore later," Methos said huskily. "I can't wait." He pushed Blair back on the bed and quickly removed his clothes. "Do you have anything we can use?" Blair looked up at him blankly. "Oil? Lotion? You know, lube." 

"In the bedside table," he answered hesitantly. "There's some massage oil." 

Methos quickly retrieved the small bottle and joined Blair on the bed. The young man backed away a little, a frown on his face. Methos noticed it as he poured the oil into his hand, the fragrance of sandalwood teased his senses. He knew Blair was unsure of his next move. He solved that by reaching down, grasping Blair's renewed erection and coating it liberally with oil. Blair began breathing harshly, thrusting himself in the other man's grip. Methos finished, then lay back, pulling Blair on top of him. 

"Don't you have to be on your stomach...?" Blair's voice trailed off, feeling slightly embarrassed at his ineptness. 

Methos smiled softly, pulling Blair down for a brief, yet intense kiss. The younger man was panting when he pulled back. 

"You can do it this way too," Methos explained. "I want to watch your beautiful face when you come." He reached down and helped Blair place himself at the opening. "Now, just push slowly." 

Blair panted harshly. "I don't want to hurt you..." 

"You won't...you can't," Methos explained, aching for the sensation that was so close. "Now, push!" 

Blair thrust forward with his hips and pushed into the slender man below him. Both men groaned harshly and grasped the other. Blair continued to push into his lover, crying out at the sensation that was tighter than anything he'd ever felt. Finally he was all the way in and he rested briefly. Meanwhile Methos held on to his hips with those long elegant fingers, and his strong legs wrapped around Blair, completing the embrace. 

Nature asserted control and he began to move, slowly at first but then with increasing speed. Methos moaned, his own throbbing cock pressing against his lover's abdomen, seeking the friction it needed. The men moved more and more quickly. Finally Blair stiffened, then convulsed, crying out sharply. Methos opened his eyes and watched Blair's face. The ecstasy on his lover's face was enough to bring on his own orgasm. He thrust upwards, spilling his seed between their sweaty bodies. 

Blair collapsed against Methos, breathing rapidly. Methos held him close, brushing again at the damp curls. 

"Thank you," Blair said quietly, his face pressed into Methos' neck. The ancient immortal just smiled. 

* * *

Several days later, Methos was rushing around the kitchen preparing sandwiches. "We're going to be late!" he called. 

"I know!" the answering voice called from the bathroom. "I'm hurrying!" 

Methos smiled. Who would have thought that he'd be anxious about being late for bowling night? But he had to admit last week was a lot of fun and he also knew that it was important to Blair. And what was important to Blair, was important to him. 

The bathroom door opened and a wet, naked Blair rushed through the kitchen into his bedroom. Methos took a quick swipe with the tea towel that was on his shoulder. But he wasn't quick enough. 

"Missed!" the voice called from the bedroom. 

"There's always next time!" he called back over his shoulder, still chuckling. 

He wasn't paying attention and as he turned back to his task the knife slipped slicing open his palm. "Shit, shit, shit!" he said quietly, putting his dripping hand over the sink. He was using the tea towel to put pressure on the wound when Blair came out of the bedroom and saw him. 

"Adam!" he exclaimed, rushing to the sink. "Oh, man! That looks nasty! Let me get the first aid kit." He rushed out of the room before Methos could stop him. 

"Double shit!" he said under his breath. Blair returned, placing the kit on the counter. 

"You need to wash it good," he instructed. 

"I already did that," Methos said curtly. "Just give me one of those big bandages. That's all I need." 

Blair looked hurt for a moment, taking out the bandage and removing the wrapper. "I was only trying to help, Adam." 

Methos sighed. "I know, Blair. I just hate being hurt. Nothing personal." 

Blair smiled. He sounded like Jim. "Well, at least it's your left hand. If it were your right, I'd accuse you of trying to get out of the match tonight." 

Methos chuckled. "Let me finish up here then let's get going. I'm gonna whup your little ass," he taunted. Blair's laughter rang out in the apartment. 

* * *

Methos thrust more quickly, pressing deeply into his lover. He looked down at Blair's flushed face. Holding his weight with one arm, he reached between them and grasped Blair's large erection. The younger man arched up at the sensation, causing Methos to groan and move even faster. Blair came first, calling out for Adam. Methos soon followed him, slowing his movements he relaxed his arm and collapsed on his side, pulling the younger man into his embrace. 

The two men lay quietly as they regained their breath. Methos spooned in behind Blair, preparing to sleep. He caressed his lover's chest slowly as their breathing calmed. 

He was about to reach and turn off the light when suddenly Blair grabbed his hand. "Where's the bandage?" Methos pulled his hand back and rolled away. "Adam, your cut is gone!" Methos now had his back to Blair, and he closed his eyes tightly, as if he could make this scene disappear. 

Blair grasped his shoulder and pulled him onto his back, grabbing his left hand again. He examined it, then looked at the other, just to be sure. Their eyes met, one set puzzled, the other, resigned. 

"Adam?" Blair questioned softly. 

"Oh, Blair," Methos sighed. "This is a really long story. Are you really sure you want to do this tonight?" 

"Absolutely," the younger man answered firmly. "Tell me what's going on!" 

Methos had just opened his mouth to speak when they both heard the front door open. Blair's eyes widened and he jumped out of the bed. "It must be Jim!" He hopped around the bedroom, looking for his bathrobe. Methos pointed to the far corner. "Thanks, man!" Blair shrugged quickly into the robe and out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Well, now, wasn't this interesting, thought Methos. 

* * *

"Jim!" Blair said, seeing his friend standing in the kitchen digging in the fridge. 

Jim stood slowly, smiling at Blair. "Chief! Good to see you! I'm sorry if I woke you." 

"You're home early," Blair said, glancing nervously behind him. 

Jim was too busy putting together a sandwich to notice his friend's discomfort. "Simon called me back early. Tate's escaped from prison." 

Blair was distracted by the comment and began to pace. "Not that psychopath! Damnit, Jim, he almost killed you the last time! What the hell happened?" 

"They're still trying to figure that out, Chief," he replied. "You want one of these?" 

Blair looked up and saw him motioning to the sandwich. "No, thanks. We had Mexican tonight." He continued pacing. "I can't believe this! How could they let that animal escape!" 

"Who's we?" Jim asked, taking a bite of his sandwich while standing at the counter. 

"We who?" Blair said, stopping his pacing to look at Jim questioningly. 

"We, as in 'We had Mexican tonight.'" 

Blair glanced at the bedroom again. Jim's gaze shifted to the bedroom door then back to Blair. "You have company, Chief?" Blair nodded. "Sorry about that. Let me get out of your way. I'll take my sandwich upstairs..." 

Suddenly he tensed, his head tilted to the side. "Blair, get away from the door!" Jim reached out and pushed Blair aside, moving towards the bedroom door. He pulled his gun from behind his back. 

"Jim, what are you doing?" 

"Quiet!" he said, standing to the side of the door. "There's a man in there. I can smell him." Jim stepped back and kicked the door open before Blair could say anything else. He moved in quickly, aiming his gun at the nude figure lying on the bed. "Don't move, you sicko." Jim glanced around quickly. "Blair! Get in here!" 

Suddenly Blair stood in the doorway. "Look around for the girl!" Jim shouted. "She can't have gone far." Blair's head sank to his chest, his hair hiding his face. Methos started to laugh. 

"There is no girl," Blair mumbled. 

Jim looked at Blair, then at the man on the bed. Methos had made no move to cover up, content to lie there and watch the action, so to speak. 

"What do you mean, there is no girl?" Jim asked, confused. "I can smell..." Jim looked around again, his senses on full alert. Suddenly everything came together. He lowered his gun slowly. "You mean you and...?" 

Completely unfazed by his nudity, Methos stood up. "Adam Pierson," he said, holding out his hand. "Lovely to meet you." 

Jim reached out instinctively and took the offered hand, a dull flush appearing on his cheeks. "Jim Ellison," he said tersely. "Sorry about all this." 

Methos just smiled. "No trouble. Enjoyed the show, actually," he replied in his best British upper crust accent. This was the funniest thing that had happened to him in years. 

"Sandburg, can I see you out in the kitchen?" Jim asked, moving quickly for the door, reholstering his weapon. 

"I'll be right out," Blair replied and closed the door behind Jim, turning to look at Methos, his expression grave. 

Methos sat down on the side of the bed where Blair joined him. They sat silently for a minute. Then Blair said "Did you see his face?" And that was all it took. They both started laughing uncontrollably and fell back on the bed hiding their faces in the bedclothes to try to stifle the laughter. 

* * *

By the time Blair gained control of himself and walked out into the other room, Jim was steaming. "There is not one goddamned funny thing about this, Sandburg!" Blair nodded. "I thought Tate was here and I was just trying to protect you." 

"I know, man," Blair walking over to his friend. "I'm really sorry. I just didn't have a chance to tell you." He put his hand on Jim's arm, where it was crossed over his chest. "I would have told you, really. I met Adam after you left and we just...got involved. He's a great guy, once you get to know him." 

Jim shrugged off Blair's hand and walked into the living room, Blair following in his wake. "I didn't know you were into guys." 

"I'm not..." Blair stammered. "I mean, I wasn't. I don't know what happened but Adam and I had this attraction, and then suddenly, wham! It was there. Call it pheromones or whatever, but it was amazing!" 

Jim stared out the window. Blair's shoulders slumped. "You don't have a problem with this, do you Jim?" The larger man just shook his head. 

"It's your house too, Sandburg," he replied, still not looking at Blair. "Listen, I'm heading off to bed. We'll talk about this some more tomorrow." Then he was gone, taking the stairs two at a time. 

Blair walked back to the bedroom. He had heard what Jim had said, but somehow he knew everything had changed. 

* * *

Jim slept poorly, and by the pre-dawn hours, he was in a real funk. He reached out and found his Guide's heartbeat, hoping that it would help him drift off again for another hour or two of sleep. His eyes closed and he relaxed. 

Suddenly the heartbeat began to quicken. Jim's senses started to go on full alert. He focused his hearing on Blair and heard....moaning? Oh, for Christ's sake, he thought. He rolled over and put his face into his pillow. This was more than one man should have to bear. But no matter how hard he tried to dial it down, something made him keep listening. Curiousity? Or something else? 

//Right there...oh, yes, harder....you're so beautiful....your hair feels so good...// 

And so it continued. The talk soon gave way to just sounds, soft, flesh against flesh sounds. Jim squirmed in the bed, becoming aroused against his will. Blair sounded so...erotic. He ground his now rock hard erection into the bed. His Guide's voice grew louder, moaning increasing in intensity until he cried out, climaxing. Jim joined him, stiffening and pressing himself into the bed. His relaxed against the bed. Rolling to the side, he went to the bathroom to get cleaned up. This was not going to work out. 

* * *

Jim walked into the kitchen to find Blair putting together the ingredients for pancakes. He looked up, smiling when he saw Jim. 

"Good morning!" 

"Hey, Chief," he responded, tiredly. 

"Didn't sleep well?" asked Blair. 

"Nope," Jim said, grabbing a mug and filling it with coffee. "Listen, Sandburg, we need to talk." 

Suddenly the bedroom door opened and Methos stumbled into the kitchen, wearing only his boxers. "Coffee?" he mumbled. Blair pointed to the pot. He stumbled over and quickly filled a mug then headed for the living room. The cup was placed on the coffee table and Methos fell onto the couch. Almost immediately soft snores could be heard. 

Blair turned to Jim and shrugged. "He's not a morning person." 

"Who is this guy?" Jim asked. 

Blair continued to work on the pancakes while he answered. "He's a visiting Professor of Linguistics. You know how I got that archaeology exhibit dumped on me right before you left?" Jim nodded. "Well, Adam just came in one day and offered to help. He's been a godsend, truly. This guy is a true genius." 

"So are you," said Jim softly. Blair looked up sharply, then back down at the breakfast makings. 

"Anyway, we've been hanging around together. I told you last night, I didn't intend to get involved, it just happened." Blair looked up with a smile which faded when he saw Jim's expression. "You're not OK with this, are you?" he asked, his heart sinking. 

"I'm sorry, Chief," Jim replied. "I'm not judging you or anything, I just don't know if I can handle this kind of relationship in my house. Our house." 

"You want me to leave?" Blair asked quietly, refusing to meet his eyes. 

"No! I mean...damn, I don't know what I mean." Jim looked directly at Blair. "You know I need you." 

"As your Guide?" Blair asked. 

"No, not just because of this Sentinel thing, but as a friend..." his voice trailed off. "I just don't like this guy," he said softly. 

"You've barely met him, Jim," responded Blair. "Give him a chance. You two have a lot in common." Jim snorted. Blair walked over to Jim, putting his hand on his arm and meeting his gaze directly. "Give this a chance, Jim, please? For me?" 

The two men stood staring at each other for a moment. Suddenly the sound of moaning from the couch broke the tension and they both looked away. 

"Blair?" Methos called. "How much time do I have?" 

Blair cleared his throat, surprised at the toll the intense emotions were having on him. "Just a half an hour, Adam," he called back. "We need to get in early." Methos groaned again, bringing a smile to Blair's face. "Up 'n at 'em, baby!" Another groan was quickly followed by a chuckle. Blair and Jim watched as the slender man picked up his coffee and stumbled into the bathroom. 

* * *

Jim came home to find Blair pecking away at his laptop and Adam sprawled on his couch, drinking his beer, and watching...soccer? He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a beer then headed for the couch himself. 

"Jags game is on," he said suggestively, sitting on the other end of the couch. 

Methos lifted an eyebrow, his attention still on the screen. "Arsenal just scored," he replied. "What are the Jags?" 

"Basketball, man, they're a basketball team." Jim replied with exasperation. He looked at his watch, wondering how much of the game was left. "They're playing an important game today." 

Methos' eyes still didn't leave the screen. "Never understood the point of basketball myself," he said. "Bunch of inordinately tall men running up and down the hall, or whatever they call it, each scoring about the same number of goals. The only important part of the game, from what _I_ can see, is the last 5 minutes. They might as well just play those last 5 minutes and not waste everyone's time." 

Jim just looked at him, unable to believe what he was hearing. "So this soccer makes more sense, I suppose." 

"It's not soccer, it's football," replied Methos smugly. "What you Americans call football is a basterdized rugby. This is the real football." 

"Listen, you..." Jim began hotly. 

"Jim!" Blair called, interrupting a major Jim-tirade. "Adam is our guest. Adam, would you mind letting Jim watch the Jags game? I have a TV in my bedroom where you can watch the end of the Arsenal game." 

Methos looked over at him and shrugged. "No problem. Actually, I wouldn't mind seeing a little more of this basketball thing. Maybe I'll see what the big attraction is." He picked up the remote and looked over at Jim. "Channel?" 

"Seven," Jim said tightly. Oh, boy, this was gonna be fun. Teaching the limey about a real sport. 

Blair rolled his eyes. Adam had promised to behave himself, but somehow he had known that he couldn't resist taunting the other man. He'd have to watch them closely to make sure nothing happened. 

Looking over at the couch, Blair happened to glance out the window. He froze for a moment, then his instinct kicked in. He sprinted across the room and threw himself on top of Jim, everything seeming to happen in slow motion. Suddenly there was a loud pop and Blair's body jerked, flying off the couch and hitting the floor. 

"Get down!" screamed Jim, reaching out and flinging Methos to the floor. He crawled over to where Blair lay and rolled him over, crying out when he saw the blood spreading across his chest. 

"Oh, my God, Blair!!!" Jim shouted, reaching out to listen for his Guide's heartbeat. He could hear it, but it was slowing quickly. He turned to Methos and said, "Call an ambulance!" But Methos didn't move. "Call an ambulance now!!!" 

He turned back to Blair, watching as the life drained out of his eyes, just as the blood ran out of his body. "Don't do this to me, Chief! I need you!!! Don't you dare leave me!" 

Blair's lips started to move and Jim leaned down to hear him. "My Blessed Protector...always..." Then his head fell to the side and Jim heard his heartbeat stop. 

"NO!!!!!" He shouted. "I'm supposed to protect you!!! You're not supposed to throw yourself between me and a bullet." Tears poured down his face. "Blair, you're my Guide. I can't live without you." 

Methos watched for a moment then crept over to the window. Whoever had done this was gone. The plate glass window had a small round hole where the bullet had come through, but otherwise didn't appear harmed. He turned back and sat on the couch. A Sentinel and his Guide. Well now this certainly put a different spin on things. 

Methos could hear Jim sobbing softly. And he waited. Suddenly Blair gasped, taking in a deep breath then letting out a wracking cough. Jim jerked upright, staring down at the man in his arms. Blair opened his eyes and looked up at Jim. 

"Damn, that hurts!" He said. "What the hell happened?" 

"You were dead!" Jim exclaimed. "But how..." his voice trailed off. 

Suddenly Methos was standing beside them. "I believe this is my part of the story." 

* * *

"Immortal?" Jim exclaimed. "Both you and Blair are immortal? What kind of bullshit story is this, Pierson? People with swords cutting off heads?" Jim stood up from the couch and began to pace. 

Methos leaned back into the couch and shut his eyes. Normally he wouldn't care whether he could convince the man or not, but this was Blair's Sentinel, someone vital to his health, both mental and physical. 

"You saw what just happened, Jim." Methos said with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. "Do you have another explanation?" 

Jim stopped his progress across the floor and glared at the sprawled man. "No, but you're asking me to believe something as ridiculous as immortality?" 

Methos opened his eyes and met the gaze of the angry man. "Is it any more ridiculous than you being a Sentinel?" 

Jim looked surprised for a moment, then resigned. "Blair told you?" 

"No, he didn't. I guessed." Methos smiled. "Actually, I can't believe I didn't see it before..." 

"You know about Sentinels?" Jim asked. 

"Oh, yes. They've been around almost as long as I have." Methos looked up at Jim again. "As have their Guides. Their _immortal_ Guides." 

Jim's eyes widened. Suddenly there was a whimper from the other end of the couch. Both men turned to see Blair huddled in the corner, arms wrapped around himself, shaking uncontrollably. 

"Shit!" Jim exclaimed, tuning in on the frantic heartbeat of his own Guide, he moved, but not fast enough. He drew back when Methos slid to the other end of the couch and enfolded Blair in his long arms. The Immortal gave comfort to his lover, pulling Blair's head to his shoulder and soothing him with a quiet voice. 

"Shhhh," he whispered. "It's OK, Blair." 

Blair spoke in a hesitant voice. "Immortal? That's why your hand...?" His voice trailed off and he lifted his head from Methos' shoulder to look up at Jim. "He cut his hand. Then there was no cut. I couldn't understand why..." Blair began to shake again. 

"That's it," Methos said firmly, standing up and pulling the trembling man to his feet. "You need to lie down. We can talk all this out later. You've had a shock and sleep is the best medicine for you right now." 

"I'll take him." Jim's voice rang out firmly. He walked over to the men and Methos stepped back, watching with a faint smile as the larger man put his arm around his Guide and lead him from the room. 

"My, my, things are about to get very interesting." Methos said quietly to himself as he strolled into the kitchen for a beer. 

* * *

Blair had finally stopped shaking and he opened his eyes to see Jim sitting on the side of the bed. "Oh, man, I cannot believe this." 

Jim reached out and brushed back the hair which clung to Blair's damp forehead. "Just relax for a bit, Chief. You've had quite a shock and, from what Adam says, we've got a lot of territory to cover." His hand continued it's unconscious stroking of his Guide's hair, almost zoning on the feel of the silken curls against his skin. In full Blessed Protector mode, Jim muttered to himself, "I still don't know about this guy." 

Blair's eyelids began to droop as he answered Jim in a quiet voice. "That feels good. Let's talk later..." 

Jim drew back his hand, realizing his comforting had progressed into stroking. He heard the smaller man's rhythmic breathing and knew Blair had fallen asleep. He continued to gaze down at the man who had come to mean so much to him. Blair was a big part of his life now and he couldn't imagine losing him. And now maybe he wouldn't. Forever. 

Jim stood up slowly taking great care not to disturb Blair. He left the room quietly and stopped in the kitchen for a beer before heading into the living room again. Methos was lying on the couch, his head propped on the arm rest, a beer propped on his abdomen. Jim settled himself on the chair and took a deep pull from his own beer. 

"Is he sleeping?" Methos asked softly. 

"Yes," Jim replied. "He dropped right off. Must have been the shock." 

"First death does it every time." Methos said with a heavy sigh. 

Jim looked sharply at Methos. "Just how old are you?" 

Methos green-gold gaze met that of the larger man. "Very old." 

"Are we talking centuries here?" Jim asked, not waiting for an answer, his brain trying to work it's way around the complexities of the situation. "Never mind. I don't think I really want to know. You change identities, right? You must have to. Keep blending in. Then you _die_ and become someone else." Jim mused, his detective skills coming to the fore. "It must be harder these days, with computers and sophisticated identification processes." 

Methos smiled as he listened to the intelligent man answer his own questions. "You're right, Detective Ellison, it is much more difficult. But it's still workable, particularly because our immortality is still only a myth to most people. They can't conceive of the idea, so they never suspect." 

"OK, so now I've heard all about how this immortality thing works." Jim said, leaning forward in his chair. "Tell me what you know about Sentinels...and Guides." 

"I figured you'd get back to that." Methos replied with a chuckle. "Let's see. You obviously have most the Sentinel stuff figured out by now: heightened senses, territorial imperative, and all that. But did you realize Sentinels have a very long life span?" 

Jim sat back and stared at the man stretched out on his furniture. "How long are we talking about here, old man?" 

Methos smiled to himself. I guess that means I've been accepted, he thought. I have a nickname, one that Mac used quite frequently. Answering aloud, he said "I don't know exactly, but much longer than a normal human's life span. A couple of hundred years max, probably." He continued, even though he knew he had astounded the other man. "The oldest Sentinel I ever knew was about 185, I think. Didn't look a day over 40," he finished with a chuckle. 

Jim's reactions were reflected in his expressions: surprise, fear, acceptance, and then curiousity. "So I'm not immortal, but I won't age...like you?" 

"No, you're not immortal so you will age. But it's extremely slow, the aging process is somehow arrested by the heightened senses. Something in the brain chemistry." Methos explained. "You'll be healthy and fit until just before you die. Then you'll age quite rapidly, or so I've heard. The Sentinels that I've known have tended to die before their time." 

Jim looked at Methos with a puzzled frown. "Because they live a dangerous life?" 

Methos' gaze met Jim's again. "No, actually because they lost their Guides. Usually from the game. Sentinels don't live long after that. They die from various causes, but it always seemed to me that they died of loneliness." 

Jim looked towards the kitchen, towards Blair's room, focusing on his Guide's heartbeat. It was slow and steady, and Jim relaxed as he let the rhythm wash over him. He listened as the other man continued talking. 

"Sentinels and Guides are connected." Methos explained. "Spiritually. What they have is a symbiotic relationship unlike just about any I've encountered over the years. Quite fascinating actually." Methos looked over to see Jim watching him closely. "When the bond is broken, one cannot seem to survive without the other." 

Jim sat back and closed his eyes, again focusing on the heartbeat of the one person who mattered the most to him. Methos watched him, wondering if the man even realized how close he and Blair were bonded. He's about to learn, thought Methos with a smile. 

"Blair needs to learn to use a sword. And quickly." Methos continued. "He's vulnerable right now to any immortal who stumbles across him. I can teach him." 

"I want to help." Jim stood up, grabbing the empty bottle from Methos and heading toward the kitchen, he continued speaking. "I might not know how to use a sword, but I do know that physical fitness must be a major part of the training. You're going to have trouble with Blair on this, old man." Jim walked back into the living room, handing Methos a fresh beer and walking over to look out the window. "You'll need me." 

Methos took a long swallow from his beer then began to chuckle. "A lover, not a fighter, huh?" 

Jim chuckled as well. "You have no idea." He turned to look at Methos speculatively. "Well, I guess you do." Jim shook his head and gazed out the window again. "It's not something I've thought much about, but I'm not a bigot. You'll have to stay here until Blair's trained. We have to keep him safe." Jim turned again to glance at the other man and then spoke rather fiercely. "You better not hurt him. He puts on a good front, but he's been hurt in the past. A flighty mother who was never there, not knowing who his Dad was...he has a lot of friends, but can't seem to find the right person to love..." His voice trailed off. 

He already has, you blind fool, thought Methos to himself, but he held his tongue. He stood up, walking over to the brooding detective. "Listen, Ellison. I won't hurt Blair. You stay close and make sure I don't. It's the last thing I want to do. And I could use all the assistance I can get with training. It's been a couple of hundred years since I last took a student." Methos smiled, drawing an answering smile from the taller man. "I can fight, it's just the teaching skills that might be a little rusty. Plus, I'm not exactly known for my patience." 

Jim stared at Methos for a moment, a speculative look on his face. "A couple of hundred years, huh? Just how old did you say you were...Adam Pierson? What's your real name?" 

"Detective Ellison makes another appearance." Methos replied with a broad smile. "Actually I didn't say." He teased. "Well, off to bed. We will need to get an early start tomorrow." Methos walked towards the kitchen, leaving his empty beer bottle on the counter. He turned before going into Blair's room to see Jim still watching him. "Methos. My name is Methos." Then he disappeared into the room. 

* * *

"Goddamnit, Chief, pay attention, will you!!" Jim's voice rang out in the empty cavern of the gym. "You're going to get hurt!" 

Blair lowered the sword, panting and glaring at the man leaning against the wall. Sweat ran down his face and neck, both his hair and tank top were thoroughly wet. "I can't _get_ hurt, or did you forget already?" 

"C'mon, Blair, get back into position," Methos urged, his own sword still raised. "You might not be able to get hurt permanently, but you can sure be permanently dead. Now fight me!" 

Blair glared at his lover and then lifted the sword. No sooner did he raise the sword again, then Methos lunged, quickly disarming him, nicking his hand in the process, and drawing blood. 

"Shit!" Blair shouted, shaking his hand, then pulling it into his chest and trying to stop the bleeding. 

Jim saw Methos shake his head and turn and walk away. He stormed over to his Guide. "That was a move you should have seen coming! What the hell is wrong with you?" 

Blair had had enough. He stood up straight and got right in Jim's face. "You son of a bitch! How dare you try to tell me what to do!" He was shaking and furious. Blair poked him in the chest. "I have been working my ass off for two weeks now! Every day. Eight hours a day. Learning to do something I will never do!" Blair's voice cracked. "Just mind your own business and stay the hell out of my face!!!" 

Blair left his sword where he had dropped it and stormed out of the gym. The two men watched him leave. Methos started to follow. 

"No, wait," said Jim, stopping the other man. "Let me go. This is my problem, not yours." Methos nodded and watched him leave. They needed to work things out between the two of them. Blair was exhausted, but Methos couldn't ease up on the training. The younger man had instincts but no real fighting skills at all, so he was really starting from scratch. Methos shook his head. This was where the game got tricky. An immortal Guide with a Blessed Protector who couldn't interfere if Blair was challenged. And Jim was a very determined Blessed Protector. 

* * *

Jim stepped out of the building and looked across the campus. They were borrowing the university's gym for their training, since it was summer break and there were few students around it was the perfect choice. The Sentinel turned up his hearing and tuned into the familiar heartbeat of his Guide, and found it along with the sounds of curses, muttered under breath, mostly at him. He headed in the direction of the quad where the noises were originating. 

Blair had settled on a bench. Jim could tell from his posture and breathing that he was still furious. Jim stopped behind Blair. "Hey, Chief." 

Blair stood up and turned quickly. "Don't 'Hey, Chief' me! Just leave me alone!" He began to walk away, but Jim casually stepped over the stone bench and easily caught up with his Guide, grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. He expected Blair to hit him, but instead the smaller man's head drooped in defeat. 

"I can't do it, Jim. I really can't." Blair stated, continuing to look at the ground. "I tried, but I'm not cut out for this." He looked up at Jim, his eyes anguished. "I can't kill anyone! You know that!" 

Jim reached out and tugged Blair back to the bench and they both sat. "I figured that's what this was about. You can do anything you set your mind to, Chief. You're smart, talented, and graceful. You just don't want to learn to fight." Blair's head sunk even deeper as he refused to meet Jim's gaze. 

"Chief, you have no choice in this." Jim stated firmly. "Look at me!" Blair raised his head. "You are my Guide and you are an Immortal. If you don't do this, you will die." 

Blair's chest heaved as he tried control his sob. "Then I'll just die. I can't cut anyone's head off." 

Jim's hands itched with the need to pull Blair into his embrace, but he held himself back. "You're not going to be out there killing innocent people, Chief. This will be someone trying to kill you. It's called self-defense." Jim now had Blair's full attention. "And if you die, I will too," he finished in a quiet voice. 

Blair's blue eyes widened as he listened to the last statement. "You won't die. Why are you saying that?" 

"Because it's true." Jim answered, holding the gaze of his Guide. "Methos says that once a Sentinel's true Guide dies, the Sentinel will also die." 

The two men gazed at each other for a long moment. Jim broke the silence first. "Blair, you can do this. You don't have to seek out a fight, but you need to know how to defend yourself. Right now you're just tired. Methos and I have been working you pretty hard." He smiled and stood, reaching out to pull the smaller man to his feet. "How about we take the afternoon off, Chief? Have a little lunch? Take a nap?" Jim placed his arm around his Guide's shoulders, drawing him towards the truck. 

Blair sighed heavily. "Thanks, Jim. Maybe I need a little time to put this into perspective." They reached the truck and noticed that Methos' SUV was already gone. "Methos must have gone back already. Can we pick up Thai food to take home?" 

Jim and Blair both climbed into the truck. "Sure, Chief, whatever you want." replied Jim, a little disappointed Blair didn't want to spend the afternoon alone with him. He was going to have to try to control this jealousy thing. Methos was Blair's lover, not him. Although lately the thought had been haunting his nights and disturbing his dreams. The white noise generator Blair had installed in his room helped, but it couldn't block out Jim's own thoughts...and desires. 

* * *

"Who the hell has the music up that loud!" shouted Jim as the two men exited the elevator. "I could hear it all the way downstairs!" 

Blair smiled to himself as they walked towards the door to their apartment holding the bag of Thai food. Hell, Jim could hear it a mile away. Of course, he knew the song, and already figured out it was Methos. He was already moving in time with the music as he unlocked the door. Blair turned to Jim as he opened the door, "It's Methos" he said with a smile and he opened the door with a flourish. 

Both men heard the Latin beat; one with a pained grimace on his face, the other whose hips were already moving to the rhythm. Suddenly the bathroom door opened and Methos emerged, along with a cloud of steam. His wet hair was spiky and his leanly muscled chest was bare. There was a blue towel slung low about his hips. Hips that were already moving with the rhythm of the song. Blair caught his breath at the site and groaned softly. 

Jim looked down in surprise at the noise. He saw Blair's gaze transfixed on that of the gyrating man. Methos began to sing along with the lyrics in a surprisingly clear voice, his eyes focused on the smaller man. 

"He's into superstition, black cats and voodoo dolls. I feel a premonition, that boy's gonna make me fall." The men's eyes held as their bodies both moved to the music. Methos continued to sing, "He's into new sensations, new kicks and in the candlelight. He's got a new addiction for every day and night. He'll make you take your clothes off and go dancing in the rain. He'll make you live his crazy life and he'll take away your pain, like a bullet to your brain. C'mon!" Methos and Blair were now standing very close, joining together in the chorus. "Upside, inside out, he's livin' la vida loca...he'll push and pull you down, livin' la vida loca" Their hips were moving in counter point to each other, keeping perfect time with the music. 

Jim could tell this was something they had done before. Initially his gaze was caught by the towel around Methos' hips which was perilously close to falling off. Then he saw Blair's ass moving in time to the music. Jim was breathing heavily, thoroughly aroused by the scene before him. He took a deep breath and groaned. The pheromones in the room were strong and they went right to his head. Jim saw that Methos was aroused as well, his towel could barely contain his rising excitement. 

Methos looked over Blair's shoulder and saw Jim watching them. He felt a brief pang of guilt then Blair leaned in and licked his neck. His eyes closed and he groaned, his own hands grabbing the smaller man's hips which were still moving with the dance. Blair grabbed his hands and pulled him to their room, apparently forgetting Jim was even there. 

As soon as the door swung shut, Blair pushed Methos against the wall, pressed his own aroused body against the towel clad man, and pulled his head down, kissing him thoroughly. The towel slipped to the floor as Methos tugged Blair even closer and thrust his erection against Blair's abdomen, causing both men to groan harshly. 

Blair's head fell back. "Oh, God, Methos. I need this." 

"You have too many clothes on," Methos gasped, reaching out and pulling Blair's tank top over his head. He began to caress the hairy chest that he'd uncovered. Finding the nipple ring, Methos smiled at the other man and tugged at the ring. Blair gasped, his nipple tautening as the pleasurable sensation shot directly to his groin. Methos leaned down and put his mouth on the other nipple, sucking as he continued to manipulate the ring with his fingers. 

Blair's hands came up and caressed his lover's soft hair as he struggled not to lose control. "Wait!" Methos stood up and pushed the smaller man towards the bed, until his knees caught on the edge and he fell back. Methos reached down and pulled off Blair's shorts and underwear, throwing them on the foor. He reached out and grasped the weeping cock which he had uncovered. Blair groaned again as Methos ran his long fingers up and down the heavy erection. He began to thrust into the hand, but Methos wouldn't hold him tight enough for him to get the necessary friction. 

"Methos, please!" Blair whispered harshly, "I can't..." His words were cut off as Methos let go of his erection, his eyes widening as he realized the older man was now caressing himself. His eyes were closed, and both hands were in motion, one cupping his testicles, the other slowly pumping his cock. Blair watched, seeing the head shining red and glistening wetly. His own neglected penis throbbed against his abdomen. 

Suddenly Methos' eyes opened and he smiled down at Blair. He kneeled on the bed between Blair's legs and then, laying himself on top of the smaller man, he aligned their cocks. They both groaned at the sensation. Methos levered himself up on his arms, causing their groins to press even closer together. Looking down at Blair he began to thrust, first slowly and then faster as the pleasure built. Blair moved his hips as he had when they were dancing, flesh sliding wetly over flesh, until neither could bear it any longer. The sensations exploded and Blair pushed upwards one more time, releasing his seed against the leaner man's abdomen. Methos joined him as his own pleasure peaked, biting down on Blair's smooth shoulder, marking him, if only for the moment until immortal healing cleared his skin. He lowered himself onto the other man and then rolled to the side, spooning behind him. 

When he regained his breath, Methos spoke softly into Blair's ear. "Well, that certainly kicked me right in the old ego." 

Blair frowned. "That was great! Fantastic! What do you mean, 'kicked you in the ego'?" 

"You called out for Jim," Methos explained in a whisper. 

Blair's eyes widened and he turned over to face his lover. "Oh, Methos. I didn't. Tell me you're kidding me." 

Methos smiled tenderly, reaching up to push back the lock of hair that had fallen into Blair's eyes. "Not a problem, Blair. I expected it before this." 

"Expected what?" Blair asked, frowning at the other man. 

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" Methos replied quietly. "Jim and you. Sentinel and Guide." 

"You mean...we're supposed to be lovers?" Blair squeaked, shocked at the thought. "Well that ain't ever gonna happen with us. Jim is as straight as an arrow. C'mon Methos, you know him too." 

Methos smiled again, reaching out to caress Blair's cheek. "I know about Sentinels and Guides. There are heterosexual pairs as well as same sex pairs. But they're always a couple. Neither you nor Jim can fight what was meant to be. Jim might not be attracted to men, but he is attracted to you. Very much. He's just having trouble admitting it to himself. And there's no doubt you're attracted to him." 

Blair looked a little shame faced. "I love _you_ , Methos!" 

"I know you do, and I love you." Methos responded quietly. "But you're not _in love_ with me. Any more than I am with you. Jim is your soul mate. We all have one." 

Blair gazed at Methos. "Have you met yours?" 

"Ah, yes, I believe I have." Methos answered quietly, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh. "Except I'm in the same predicament as you: mine is 'straight as an arrow' too." He chuckled. "But I think he's beginning to see the error of narrow minded thinking." 

Blair was quiet for a moment. "So what do I do?" 

"Nothing," Methos replied. "Absolutely nothing. Time is in your favor." He laughed softly. "Of course, circumstances help too." 

* * *

Jim heard the door slam shut and then heard the thud of a body being pushed against it. He sighed heavily and turned down his hearing as much as possible. Grabbing a beer from the fridge and taking the bag of Thai food, he went out on the balcony and shut the glass door behind him. 

Even with his hearing dialed down, he could still hear the occasional gasp and moan. His body throbbed as he thought of the erotic show he'd just witnessed. Jim still couldn't understand what it was that was turning him on so much. These were guys. He loved women and always had. But his feelings for Blair seemed to have penetrated all his preconceived notions and his barriers. He didn't know what to do. He wasn't gay, but yet here he was, terribly attracted to a man. Picking at the food in one of the cartons, he suddenly heard Blair's voice cry out, "Jim!" He started to rise from his chair, dialing up his hearing, listening for danger. Then he heard it, Blair panting harshly and Methos...they were having sex. They were both coming and...and Blair had cried out for _him_! Jim fell back in the chair, stunned. 

* * *

Jim sat in front of the TV Sunday afternoon watching the Jags play the Celtics. The big cop was drinking a beer and munching on popcorn, his favorite pastime, and trying hard to concentrate, and not to think about his current dilemma. He was so wrapped up in the game he didn't hear anyone approach the apartment until he heard a knock at the door and got up to answer it. 

Opening the door, he saw a man, a little shorter than himself, with long brown hair tied back. The man was well-muscled and Jim could only describe him as overwhelmingly handsome. 

"Can I help you?" he asked. 

The man looked past him into the apartment. "Actually, I think I may be in the wrong place. I'm looking for Adam Pierson?" 

"You've got the right apartment." Jim replied. "Adam is staying here." 

"I thought he was staying with..." the man looked down at the paper in his hand then up at Jim again. "Blair Sandburg? You don't look like the Blair Sandburg that was described to me." The man said with a charming smile. 

Jim smiled back. "I'm Jim Ellison, Blair is my, um, roommate. And you are?" he asked, holding out his hand. 

"Duncan MacLeod," the man answered, reaching out and grasping Jim's hand for a shake. "Pleased to meet you. Is Adam around?" 

"No, he and Blair are out for the afternoon." Jim answered, wondering who the handsome stranger was to Methos. "Would you like to come in, Mr. MacLeod?" Jim figured if nothing else, maybe he could find out something about the mysterious Immortal who was staying with them. 

Mac smiled. "Please call me Mac. And I'd love to come in, thanks. It's a long drive from Seacouver." 

Jim gestured for him to come inside then led him to the chair by the couch. "Please have a seat. Would you like something to drink?" 

Mac noticed the beer on the end table. "One of those would be nice." 

Jim headed to the kitchen for the beer. "So is that where Adam is from as well? Seacouver?" 

"Adam is from all over. I live in Seacouver part of the year, and he stays with me occasionally when he comes in to town." He reached up to take the beer Jim handed him. "So it seems Adam is up to his old tricks. He knows everything about you and you know nothing about him. That sound about right?" 

Jim smiled. "You do know him well. He's been staying with us, or actually with Blair," he gestured towards the French doors off the kitchen, "for about three weeks now and I still can't get a handle on him." 

Mac laughed out loud. "Don't even bother, Jim. I don't think anyone has ever accomplished that. So, what do you do?" 

"I'm a detective for the Cascade PD," Jim replied. "You?" 

"I'm an Antiques dealer." Mac replied. "A detective, huh? Your roommate is an anthropology professor at Rainier U studying for his doctorate?" 

Jim narrowed his eyes at the stranger. "You seem to know quite a bit about Blair." 

Mac smiled. "Don't worry, Detective, it's only information I came across while I was looking for Adam." 

"So why are you looking for Adam?" Jim asked. 

"He left me, um, Seacouver, rather abruptly. He was a little upset so I just wanted to make sure he was OK." Mac replied, looking around. "Great loft you have here. I have a loft as well. It's nice having the large open spaces." 

"I couldn't be cooped up in little rooms after this place," Jim replied. "I guess I'm spoiled." Cheering from the TV caught his attention. "Yes!" He cried out when he saw the score was now well in the Jags favor. He turned back to the other man. "You like basketball?" 

"Love it," Mac replied, reaching out for a handful of popcorn. "Turn it up, will you? I can barely hear it." 

* * *

Methos and Blair got in the elevator and pressed the button. Blair sank back against the wall and closed his eyes. "Haven't you ever heard that on the seventh day they rested?" he mocked tiredly. 

"Wuss," Methos teased. "You're doing much better, so quit your whining." 

"Cold-hearted bastard." 

"Baby" 

"Asshole" 

When there was no comeback, Blair opened his eyes. Methos was standing stiffly, his head at an angle as if listening. Then suddenly, he felt it too. Another immortal! 

Methos pulled out his sword, standing back away from the doors when they opened. Moving cautiously, he gestured for Blair to stay by the elevator. Having long practice with ignoring Jim when he was told to stay by the truck, Blair followed closely behind Methos. They both realized simultaneously that the other immortal was in their apartment. 

"Jim, are you OK?" Blair spoke softly, knowing that if Jim were in the apartment, he'd hear him. Suddenly the door swung open and Jim was standing there...with Methos' sword at his throat. 

"Whoa!" Jim held still, waiting for Methos to lower the sword. He whispered, "Put it away! We have company!" 

Methos looked past Jim. "Yes, I can see that." He finally lowered the sword and turned to Blair. "It's OK, Blair. It's a friend." Methos walked over to where the other man was standing, still holding his sword. "A nosy friend. Hey, Mac. What are you doing here?" 

Mac smiled and looked down at the weapon his friend made no effort to hide. "Is that a sword or are you just happy to see me?" he teased. 

Methos turned away in disgust. "Blair Sandburg, this is Duncan MacLeod, a friend. And as we all know, he's another immortal." Methos put his sword by the door, noticing Jim's expression. "Oh, sorry. You hadn't figured that out yet?" 

"Um, no, actually I hadn't." Jim glanced over at Mac. "Antiques?" He gestured towards Methos, who had stalked to the kitchen and was rummaging for a beer. "You mean like him?" 

Mac threw back his head and laughed. Jim and Blair quickly joined in. Methos just walked past them, sprawling on the couch and changing the channel. 

"Hey!" called both Jim and Mac simultaneously. 

Methos smirked. "Sorry," he said innocently. "Were you watching something?" 

Jim looked over at Mac. "And you came _looking_ for him?" 

* * *

"Smells delicious," commented Jim as he caught the odor wafting from the oven. "I love garlic bread, but I've never tried it with the cheese before. Pecorino Romano and Parmesan?" 

Mac grabbed an oven mitt and bent to check the bread under the broiler. "The Romano gives it that extra bite." He closed the oven again. "Just needs a minute or two more. You need a hand with the pasta?" 

"No, thanks," replied an apron-clad Jim as he lifted the pot from the stove. "Could you finish up the table. Looks like the _children_ didn't quite finish setting the table as instructed." 

Both men glanced into the living room to see Methos and Blair focusing on something they'd pulled up on Blair's laptop, Methos reading over the other man's shoulder. 

Mac quickly finished the table, grabbing the pasta bowl from Jim and placing it on the table before returning to the kitchen to pull the bread from the oven. Jim was already washing the pots he had used. An old soldier, like himself, Mac thought with a smile of approval. Liked things kept clean and orderly. Mac wondered how he fared with Methos staying there. And if Blair was anything like the annoyingly cluttered Immortal, Jim must have his hands full. 

"Call in the troops, would you Mac?" Jim asked, finishing up the pre-dinner dishes. 

Mac turned to announce dinner and found Blair and Methos already at the table, digging into the pasta. He sighed, carrying in the steamy garlic bread and placing it in the center of the table. 

"Hungry?" He asked drily, as several slices of bread quickly disappeared off the platter. 

"Man, you better believe it! Must be all this exercise," mumbled Blair, his mouth full of bread. Or all of the great sex, he thought, glancing quickly towards Methos. 

Jim joined the men in the dining area, carrying a bottle of wine. "Have a seat, Mac. You're our guest. Glad to see all my lectures on manners have sunk in." Blair glanced up guiltily as Jim continued. "Everyone want some wine?" 

Jim poured for everyone and then sat, filling his own plate. There was little conversation until the men's initial hunger had been satisfied. Jim got up and opened a second bottle of wine. 

"So, this is all new to you Blair, being an Immortal, I mean?" Mac asked. "And Methos just happened to find you?" 

Blair nodded. "What a head rush this whole thing is, man!" he exclaimed. "Good thing Methos was around or I'd have been in a real mess." 

Mac eyed his friend. "So you're teaching him?" he asked. "Unusual for you to take on a student, isn't it?" 

Methos smiled fondly at Blair. "It wasn't exactly my intention, but it looks like I was in the right place at the right time. We've had some fun. Plus the circumstances have made this a bit of a challenge for me." 

"A challenge?" asked Mac. "How so?" 

Methos turned to Jim and raised an eyebrow. "Your call," he stated. 

Jim inclined his head. "Go ahead," he replied. "You obviously trust him." 

Methos turned back to meet Mac's quizzical gaze. "Seems Jim is a Sentinel. And Blair is his Guide." 

"Sentinel?" asked Mac. 

Blair spoke up. "Jim has heightened senses. They're a genetic advantage and were suppressed during his childhood. He spent some time in a Peruvian jungle after losing his Special Ops team. The isolation brought his senses back _on-line_. Then during a big case they starting causing him problems...that's when I found him and clued him in to what he was. Sentinels were...well, are my special field of study." 

Mac looked at Jim who was watching him for his reaction. "I've heard of this before, but I've never heard the term _Sentinel_. You can see and hear long distances, things like that?" 

Blair jumped in, practically vibrating in the chair. "And smell, taste, and touch as well." He looked at Jim, smiling. "Needless to say, he was a little crazed when I stumbled on him." Jim gave him a look. "Well, you were!" Blair insisted, then continued, "Turns out I'm his Guide. Every Sentinel needs one to watch out for him. Having these heightened senses comes with it's own set of problems, as I'm sure you can imagine." 

"So you protect him?" Mac asked. "Watch out for him?" 

Blair looked at Jim and their gazes held for a long moment before Jim answered, "We look out for each other." 

"You see there's a whole spiritual side to this as well," Blair continued, dragging his eyes from Jim to refocus on Mac. "He's my Blessed Protector, and I'm his Guide...and Shaman. We're bonded somehow...genetically." 

Methos had watched the whole exchange, sipping his wine before joining the conversation. "Sentinels have been around almost as long as I have been," he commented. "Save the joke for later," he said drily as he saw Mac about to comment. The two Immortals shared a smile. He continued, "They have a very long life span and their Guides are always Immortals. Nature accommodating for the relationship, I guess." 

Mac reached for the wine bottle, and refilled everyone's glasses as he thought about what he'd been told. Turning to Methos, he asked, "So what's the special problem here that I'm not seeing?" 

Methos paused to make sure Blair and Jim were listening before he continued. "Jim is Blair's Blessed Protector. They spend a lot of time together. What do you think will happen when Blair is challenged?" 

"I know exactly what I'll do when some son of a bitch comes after Blair with a sword!" Jim replied fiercely. 

"And there's our problem laid out for us nicely," said Methos with some sarcasm. "Thank you, Jim." 

Jim looked puzzled while Blair looked thoughtful. "Oh, boy," Blair said quietly. "Why didn't I think of that?" 

"Think of what?" Jim asked, beginning to get irritated. "What the hell am I missing here?" 

Mac leaned over and touched Jim's forearm, getting his attention. "You can't interfere, Jim." 

Jim frowned. "I can't...interfere? You're telling me I can't protect Blair?" He looked around at the three men. "Bullshit! I mean, I know he needs to know how to protect himself, but this is a little ridiculous. We're a team. I can't stand by and _watch_ him fight and possibly get killed!" 

Blair reached out and grabbed Jim's hand which was clenched in a tight fist on the table. He cupped it in his hands and massaged, trying to relax the tense muscles. "Jim, listen to me!" Jim met Blair's gaze. "It's the rules. You understand rules, right? You know, house rules and such?" Blair joked, trying to loosen up his Sentinel who still looked pretty pissed off. "Once an Immortal is engaged in combat with another, no one can interfere. Not even his Blessed Protector," Blair finished softly. 

Jim stared into Blair's eyes. "I don't know, Chief," he replied, still quite doubtful. "I hear what you're saying, but the reality is...I don't know if I can do it. Step back and let you fight on your own." 

Methos cleared his throat, catching everyone's attention. Then he looked at Mac. "See the problem now?" 

Mac nodded, impressed and somewhat surprised by the intensity of emotion between Jim and Blair. Was there something between the two, he wondered. But Methos was with Blair...? 

"It's getting late," Jim said, glad to change the subject for a moment. "Do you have a place to stay, Mac?" 

"I was planning on getting a room," replied Mac. "I wasn't sure I could find Methos..." 

"Why don't you stay here for the night?" Jim asked. "I'd like to talk some more if you don't mind? You can have my bed and I'll take the couch." 

Mac smiled. "I'd love to stay, thanks. But I won't put you out of your bed. I insist on taking the couch." 

The men stood, Jim and Mac beginning to clear the table. Methos came up behind Mac and whispered, "Make yourself right at home here, why don't you?" He picked up his glass and followed Blair into the living room without waiting for a reply. Mac watched him join Blair on the couch, smiling to himself. Finally he was the one barging in and making himself at home. And his ancient friend didn't seem to like it one bit. Mac joined Jim in the kitchen, offering to dry the dishes. 

"You notice we cook AND clean up?" commented Mac. "Boy, do they have us trained." 

"Believe me, you don't want their help," replied Jim. "The last time I forced the issue, they turned into two year-olds and flooded the kitchen. A water fight, they tell me." Jim shook his head. "They are either really good for each other, or very, very bad. I haven't decided which yet." 

"Thanks for the invitation, by the way," Mac said. "I really wasn't looking forward to heading back out again tonight. Is there a running path anywhere near here?" he asked, taking another plate from Jim. "I like to run in the mornings when I can." 

"Sure," replied Jim. "There's a park right on the next block. You interested in company?" he inquired with a raised eyebrow. "It's been awhile since I've gotten outside. I usually work out in the gym." 

"Great!" answered Mac. "Six OK with you?" 

"Perfect," replied Jim, then he smiled, motioning into the living room with his chin. "And don't worry about waking those two. It would take a nuclear holocaust to wake them at that hour." 

Mac smiled. "I'm familiar with the species." 

* * *

The two men jogged along, side by side, keeping pace with each other as they kept to the path. They caught the notice of several early morning joggers, two handsome, muscular men, each attractive in his own way. But neither noticed, both wrapped up in their own thoughts. 

Mac broke the silence. "It doesn't bother you?" he asked. 

"What?" asked Jim. 

"The two of them going at it like rabbits," replied Mac. "They tried to be quiet, but I could still hear them. It must drive _you_ nuts!" 

Jim smiled and glanced over at Mac before replying. "You mean does it bother me that two men are having sex or that _those_ two men are having sex under my roof?" 

"Either...or," Mac answered, gesturing with his hands, first left then right, then finally up in frustration. 

"Complicated question," replied Jim. "Does it bother me that two men are having sex? No, not really. Not _my_ thing, but love is love, right?" Jim shook his head. "But does it bother me that Blair and Methos are having sex? Frankly, yes." He looked over at Mac again then back to the path. "I wish I could explain it, but I can't. I'm jealous, damnit!" Jim slowed and then began walking, hands on his hips. 

Mac stopped as well and the two men began their cool down. Jim continued, "Stupid, huh? I'm not gay and yet I'm jealous that my male roommate is getting some." He shook his head with disgust. 

Mac looked at the other man. "Not stupid," he replied. "Normal, I think. You and Blair have a very close friendship, right? You rely on each other?" Jim nodded. "And Methos has taken some of Blair's attention away from you? I would say that's a cause for jealousy. 

Jim shook his head, refusing to meet Mac's gaze. "It's more than that," he replied quietly. "I...I'm attracted to him. Now I realize I always have been." He finally looked up at Mac, who was watching him intently. "Methos was just the catalyst, I guess. I'm not attracted to men...just Blair. Am I making any sense here?" 

Mac nodded, very thoughtful. "Oh, yeah, you're making perfect sense." The men walked over to a bench and sat. "As long as it's confession time, I might as well tell you that I'm jealous too." 

Jim looked surprised. "You? And Methos?" 

"Yep," Mac replied, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "At least, I'm pretty sure that's what he's been trying to tell me. And I've been stubborn about the whole thing." Mac sighed heavily. "He disappears too. I can't always find him this easily...so that's an added complication. Plus you never know exactly what he's thinking. He's just seen so much, done so much...he's just so damn old! It's rather daunting to think about." 

"How old is Methos?" asked Jim. 

Mac sat up and smiled at the other man, shaking his head. "Sorry, Jim. Not my information to give out. If he wants you to know, he'll tell you." 

"How old are you?" Jim asked. "That is your information to give...if you want to." 

"About 400," replied Mac, who watched for Jim's reaction. 

Jim's eyes widened, but other than that he didn't comment. "Sounds like we're both in a similar predicament here: straight guys...in love with two guys...who are sleeping with each other." Both men laughed. "Pretty fucked up, huh? We belong on Jerry Springer." 

The men stood and Mac slapped Jim on the back. "I guess we both have some work to do, wouldn't you say?" 

They resumed their run, silent again, each lost to his own thoughts. 

* * *

Methos held up his hand, motioning Blair for a time out. He turned, sword at the ready, and watched Mac and Jim enter the gymnasium. Not commenting on their arrival, he turned back to Blair. "This time, watch what I'm doing. Try to anticipate which way I'm going to come at you." 

Blair nodded, wiping at his brow before resuming his stance. The two Immortals faced off, swords raised. The swords clashed and they began to parry, Blair holding his own for the moment. Suddenly Methos was distracted by a low chuckle. Blair instinctively took the advantage, pressing his attack and slicing Methos' bare arm deeply. Methos swore furiously, dropping his sword and pressing his hand against his arm. 

"Oh my God!" Blair exclaimed, dropping his own sword and rushing to his friend's aid. "Methos, I am so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you! Oh, man, I hate this!" 

Methos gritted his teeth as he heard Mac and Jim laughing. "I'm all right, Blair!" He glared over at the two men. "If these assholes can keep their mouths shut, I might be able to continue." 

Mac laughed teasingly, smiling at Methos first, then commenting to Jim. "Must be old age. Isn't it the attention span that goes first?" 

Jim smiled back, chuckling. "I believe so, my good man," he replied. "Hey, Blair! Nice one!" 

Methos was furious. Blair laid a hand on his arm, trying to soothe him, but Methos shook him off, glaring at Mac. 

Mac continued to tease, obviously feeling his oats. "The teacher being bested by his student." He shook his head in mock sadness. "I never thought I'd see the day when the old man couldn't hold his own." He looked at Jim, who assumed his own sad expression. "I mean, _I_ always beat him..." 

Methos reached down and picked up his sword and stalked over to where the two men leaned against the wall. Mac saw the expression on his face and decided he might have pushed his friend just a little too far. His own katana was in his hand before Methos reached him. The older man stood toe to toe with his tormenter. 

"You always beat me?" Methos said quietly, his voice mocked lightly. "Well, let's just have a little demonstration for these gentlemen here. Some instruction for my student. What do you say?" 

Mac's gaze narrowed. "Sure, Methos," he replied. "Love to." 

Blair walked over to Jim and stood with him against the wall as the two older Immortals squared off in the center of the gym. They circled each other, each silently watching the other. Blair shivered, drawing Jim's attention. 

"You cold, Chief?" he asked quietly. 

"No, man," answered Blair, unable to take his eyes off the circling men. "Can't you feel it, Jim? The tension, the...excitement." 

Jim looked down at Blair then at Methos and Mac. Then he smiled. "Yeah, I guess I can." Actually, Jim could _smell_ them. Not only the sweat and tension...but the arousal. He shivered himself, overwhelmed by the waves he felt coming from the combatants, as well as the musky odor arising from the smaller man at his side. He could hear Blair's heart pounding in his chest, his breath coming fast with his excitement. 

Suddenly Blair gasped as the two men finally broke the dance. Their swords clashed loudly and furiously. Even Jim, inexperienced with swordplay, could see that the two were very evenly matched. They thrusted and parried with lightning speed, their eyes locked. Suddenly Methos took advantage of an off balance thrust by his opponent, reaching out with his foot and pulling Mac's leg out from underneath him. Mac went down on his back, but managed to keep his katana. Before anyone could blink, Methos kicked at Mac's hand, the katana went flying, and Methos had his blade at Mac's throat. 

"Get up," Methos said coldly. Mac lay there, breathing heavily and looking up at his attacker. "Get up, you braggart!" 

Mac got to his feet, his eyes searching for his katana. "I don't think so," Methos said, drawing Mac's gaze. Methos had his sword at Mac's throat again and was forcing him backwards. He pinned the younger man against the wall, moving close, but not yet pressing his body against Mac's. The two men stared at each other, brown eyes meeting the narrowed gaze of the older Immortal, their breath coming heavily. 

"Oh, gods, please tell me you want this as much as I do," Methos gasped, still not lowering the sword. Mac licked his lips and Methos groaned. "You did this on purpose, didn't you?" Methos asked softly, hungrily watching a bead of sweat traveling down his beloved's face. He pressed his body closer, drawing a groan from Mac. Then he leaned in and licked the bead of sweat off his soon-to-be lover's face. Mac's eyes closed and his arms came up around Methos' waist, pulling him even closer. 

Jim and Blair watched the tableau, totally enthralled by the scene playing out before them. Finally Jim couldn't take it anymore. "C'mon, Chief, let's give them a little privacy." Blair didn't move. Jim chuckled when he saw the expression on his Guide's face. Reaching out and wrapping his arm around Blair's shoulder, he drew the younger man along with him. 

Blair went with Jim willingly, but still looked over his shoulder. "Man, did you _see_ that? That was like _so_ hot!" Blair was too excited by what he had just seen to notice that Jim was holding him close to his side. The men quietly left the gym, closing and locking the door behind them. 

Neither Mac nor Methos noticed the two men leaving. They were too wrapped up in each other. Their aroused bodies pressed together, their faces close, breathing each other's breath. 

"You can drop the sword now, Methos," Mac said, looking down to see the item in question still clenched in the older man's grasp. He glanced back to see Methos staring at him intently. "I'm more interested in _this_ sword." Mac thrust his hips, pressing against Methos' arousal, drawing a harsh gasp from both of them. The sword fell unnoticed to the ground. 

"Be very sure," Methos said, brushing his lips against the full lips of his companion. He pulled back slightly and Mac followed him, grasping Methos' head with one hand. He pulled the older Immortal to him and initiated a kiss that rocked Methos to the core. Methos drew back with a gasp. "Duncan, please. I can't think when you do that." 

Mac smiled, amused and aroused by his affect on the usually unruffled Immortal. "Don't think...feel." Methos noticed his friend's amusement. Reaching down, he placed his hand on Mac's chest and dragged it down until it was pressed directly against the erection straining against the tight jeans. He smiled as Mac's pupils suddenly dilated and then his eyes closed, his head arching back as he thrust himself against the questing hand. "Methos!" he gasped. "Please!" 

"You told me to feel," teased Methos. "And this feels pretty good." Mac laughed, the sound emerging more as a groan. "Do you know how long I've wanted this? Wanted you?" the older Immortal asked. He pressed his face into Mac's neck, sucking at the other man's Adam's apple. 

"I'm beginning to realize..." Mac's voice trailed off as Methos began to unbutton his shirt, his lips following the path of his fingers. He was licking and sucking at Mac's chest, making a brief foray to each nipple, before continuing lower... 

Mac reached out and grabbed his lover's head. Methos stopped and looked up, his gaze questioning. "Oh, Methos, I didn't know..." The older man smiled and continued his journey. Reaching the barrier of Mac's jeans, he pressed his cheek into the heavy arousal he found there. Turning his head he nipped lightly at the bulge drawing a groaning laugh from Mac. "This feels unbelievable." 

Finally Methos took pity on the trembling man and unbuckled, unbuttoned, and unzipped the jeans which were keeping him from his prize. Suddenly he had Mac's throbbing cock in his hands. He glanced up to see the Scot staring down at him, his eyes heavy and slumberous. Still watching his lover, he leaned in and licked the engorged head lightly. Mac gasped and held Methos head even tighter. 

"I can't believe it's you...and me," Mac said in a hushed voice. Methos smiled briefly before leaning in and engulfing Duncan's erection completely. Mac groaned loudly at the sensation of Methos' tongue caressing the underside of his cock. The hot, wet suction and the rhythm the ancient exercised on his old friend and new lover was almost more than the Scot could handle. 

Time seemed to halt and all sensation was here, inside Methos' mouth...and on his scalp, where Mac had a firm grasp on his tormentor. He suddenly knew what Jim had describe 'zoning' felt like. Methos' heart pounded in his chest and he drew air harshly through his nose so that he could take more of Mac into his body. 

Duncan felt the shudder begin in his toes, his body resonating with the groans and moans coming from both he and Methos. He knew he was going to explode and so, too, did his lover. Methos seemed to increase the movement of his very talented tongue. Massaging the sensitive underside of his cock with it and then flicking it across the tip when he pulled back. The ancient Immortal proved his years of experience and set up a pace of advancing and withdrawal that Duncan could not resist. 

Mac's shout as he spilled his essence into Methos' throat echoed off the walls of the gymnasium. He flung his head back with such force he struck the wall with his skull and nearly knocked himself unconscious. Not that the orgasm hadn't left him all that aware anyway. Methos gently tucked away the softening flesh and slowly rose from his position of supplication. He slid his hand into Mac's hair, feeling the lump rise and then heal on the noble skull. The two men kissed with all the passion that each had been holding back for so long. 

Methos drew back. "Let's get out of here." 

Mac pulled him back for another kiss. "What about you?" he whispered. 

"I can wait," Methos replied smugly. "I'm not desperate enough to do it in a gym!" 

Mac looked at him in surprise for a moment, then threw back his head again, laughing. "You old fart! Come on, let's get ourselves a nice comfortable room so we can do it nice and easy..." 

"I'll give you 'nice and easy'," the older Immortal said with a smirk. 

"I just bet you will!" Mac replied. "You are paying, right?" 

"Me?" Methos exclaimed as they walked out of the gym arm in arm, "You're the guy with all the money. I'm a poor professor..." 

Mac shook his head. "You probably have more money squirreled away than the US Treasury has in the mint." 

"Which mint?" Methos asked, then laughed as he dodged away from Mac's tickling fingers. 

* * *

Blair looked at Jim from the passenger side of the truck. "Did you know about those two?" Blair asked. "I mean, I like totally missed it!" 

Jim smiled over at his companion before looking back at the road. "Mac and I talked this morning. Seems like he's recently become aware of his attraction to Methos. He wasn't quite sure how to handle it." Jim chuckled. "I guess he figured it out." 

"Yeah, in a big way," commented Blair. "They make a nice couple, don't you think?" 

"Yeah, they do," replied Jim. "Does it bother you, Chief? Losing Methos like that?" 

Blair was quiet for a moment, his mind wandering back to Methos' confession that there was someone he thought unobtainable. Then he snapped back to where he was and who he was with...talk about unobtainable. He sighed, "Not really. He wasn't The One, you know?" 

Jim glanced over at Blair. "Yeah, I know." He was quiet for a moment. "Am I?" 

Blair sat up in the seat in shock. "Are you what?" 

"The One?" Jim asked, pulling into their parking space at the loft and shutting off the engine. He turned in the seat to face his Guide. 

Blair blushed and took a sudden interest in his own shoes, not willing to meet Jim's gaze. "Why would you say that?" He had hidden his love for Jim for so long. Had he finally given himself away? 

Jim smiled and reached out to caress one of Blair's soft curls. "You called out for me, you know." Blair's blue eyes widened and met his. "The other afternoon. When you were with Methos." His voice lowered. "I heard you call out my name." 

He wanted to be mad. He wanted to ask Jim how long the Sentinel had been eavesdropping on his sex life, but the reality of the moment took all the wind out of his sails. "Does that bother you?" asked Blair in a hushed whisper. "I didn't mean to, really. If this bothers you, I'll like leave, right now." 

"Shhh," Jim soothed, moving closer to his Guide, cupping the younger man's neck with his large hand. "I liked it. It was...exciting." His voice got even lower. "I wished WE were in your room together." 

"But, Jim," squeaked Blair. "I didn't think you liked guys." 

"I don't," Jim replied softly, his thumb stroking along Blair's jaw. "I like _you_ , not guys." He leaned closer and kissed Blair lightly. "Actually, I love you, Chief. I think I have for awhile, I just didn't want to admit it." 

"Oh, man, this is incredible," Blair said, holding Jim's gaze. "You're OK with this? I mean the sex part?" 

Jim chuckled. "Well, we need to talk about that. Can we take it slow? Mentally, I'm ready for this, but physically? I just don't know. I've never done this." He smiled as he watched Blair's mental wheels turning. He always got this same expression on his face when he was working through a problem. 

"Sure, Jim," Blair replied. "We can do this. We've worked through everything else. This is just another hurdle for us to get over together. Now we can start with some kissing and touching, just to see how you do. Then we'll...." 

Jim smiled as Blair continued babbling, having gone into full 'academic mode' about how they would proceed with this next experiment. Blair turned and got out of the truck, still talking a mile a minute. Jim followed him, gazing down at the earnest expression on the younger man's face. Jim had tuned out the words and simply focused on Blair. God, he loved this man! 

As they reached the door to the apartment, Blair's voice finally cut through his mini-zone out. "So what do you think?" he asked. 

Jim suddenly pressed Blair up against the door, cupped his beloved's face in his hands, and proceeded to kiss him senseless. When he finally pulled back, Blair stared up at him, breathing heavily. "Man, I do not think this is going to be a problem." He reached up and pulled Jim's head back down to his. "Let's try that experiment again..." And Jim willingly complied. 

* * *

The following afternoon, Jim was lying on the couch, watching the Jags game on TV, the sound turned down in deference to his lover. Blair was reclined between Jim's legs, his back pressed against the larger man's chest, one arm lying on a well-muscled thigh, the other holding a book. 

Suddenly Blair stiffened, sensing the approach of another Immortal. Jim held him in place. "It's just Methos and Mac." Blair relaxed, trusting his lover's hearing. 

The door opened and the two men came in. Methos strolled into the living room and looked down at Jim and Blair on the couch. "Well, well, well, what have we here?" he said with a smile. "You steppin' out on me, Blair?" he teased. 

Mac walked over and stood beside Methos. "We had our own little _well, well, well_ last night, dear, remember" Mac reminded Methos. 

Jim winked at Mac before looking at Methos. "You broke curfew last night, young man." 

"And aren't you glad I did?" Methos replied. The men all laughed. "Seriously though, we have to get back to Seacouver." 

Blair frowned. "But my training..." 

"I know, but Mac had an idea," Methos explained. "He has this friend who is also a cop. He's an Immortal and would be perfect to finish your training." He stopped when he saw the look on Blair's face. "You are good. Very, very good. You have all the right instincts, you just need to hone your skills. And with Jim helping you, you're going to be fine." 

Mac chimed in. "He's right, Blair. Besides, since Noah is a cop, he can tailor your training to suit your work and your lifestyle. Much more than Methos can." 

"Noah?" asked Jim. "You're not talking about Noah Michaels, are you?" 

Mac smiled. "He knows you too, Jim. I hope you don't mind that I explained the situation to him a bit?" 

"No, of course not," Jim replied. He looked down at his partner. "Chief, this guy is perfect. He's an excellent cop. I'd trust him with my life." Jim leaned down and kissed the top of Blair's head. "And I guess I will be trusting him with my life." 

"Well, I'll just go grab my things," Methos said, leaving the group and heading into Blair's room. 

Blair jumped up off the couch. "Excuse me for a minute," he mumbled as he headed off to follow Methos. He stood in the doorway of his room and watched the older Immortal shoving his stuff into the duffel bag. Methos turned and saw him standing there, his eyes sad. Methos smiled and walked over to Blair, reaching up to tug at a curl. 

"We'll see each other again, you know," he said softly. "You're going to be just fine. You have Jim. How could you be anything else?" 

"I'll miss you," Blair replied, then reached out and hugged Methos. The other man returned the hug. "I love you," whispered Blair. "You better come back!" 

Methos chuckled softly, his face pressed into Blair's curls. "One thing about me...I _always_ come back." 

**FINIS**


End file.
